Weaknesses
by objectivity
Summary: OneShot. She paused, pondering a response. “Well…I can’t really say I’ve perfected the air of whipping up flames out of thin air. Does that count as one of my weaknesses?” “No,” he said. A sort-of Royai


**Okay, this is my first go at a FMA story (one-shot). Hope you like it!**

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**Weaknesses**

By _objectivity_

**It was another** tedious day at the office. Roy Mustang gave an exaggerated yawn, squirming back on his seat and stretching his arms in the air. There were three stacks of papers bundled on his table and he had only gone through half a stack. Being a Colonel sure did have its downfalls.

Sunlight filtered through the sparkling windows. He certainly knew so considering he had just cleaned them a few minutes ago. Now that he was back on his seat, he couldn't concentrate. "I'm going for a walk."

"You can't sir. The deadline's at the end of our shift," Hawkeye already had her pistol aiming at him before he had the chance to get out of his seat. His first lieutenant sure had a knack for getting that thing quickly out and ready to fire. He cowered further into his chair. "Besides, you already had your break cleaning the windows that you've been cleaning constantly every half hour for the past three hours."

"Great to know you're keeping track."

"Paperwork. _Now._"

It was strange that even though she was lower than her, she acted so maturely that it was if she was his superior. He gave a whinging groan and turned his head back at the white sheets of paper with black text. Even staring at them was literally killing him. The paperwork was staring at him in a monotone fashion. Oh, how he wished to click his fingers and watch them burn into ashes. If only he could…

Roy's attention shifted back to his lieutenant whom had (thankfully) placed her gun away and was back at completing her own paperwork. He watched her tug the heavy collar of her uniform. It was then that he noticed that there were beads of sweat gleaming above her brow. He didn't even bother to tell her to take off her uniform blazer because he'd done that before and earned himself a bullet to shave a part of the jet-black hair on his head. It was a close call. Though he praised Hawkeye for her perfect aim…he knew that she couldn't be _always_ perfect.

He didn't only praise her aim. Off course he had to praise her looks as well. There was denying that she was the most beautiful woman in the military – not that there were many women in the military nevertheless. He watched as she blew her fringe from getting in her eyes, a mannerism that he had now memorised. Albeit she was a woman that always wanted order, was terrifyingly strict she was as loyal as any subordinate was capable to be. There was also no denying that he had fallen for her.

He had gone through extremes to get her to elicit some sort of reaction from her. It was difficult, but when it came through…it was worth it. Even if it was from acting like a complete full to get her undivided detention or sometimes flirting here and there to trigger to a tiny smile. Being Hawkeye, she would never admit that she was enjoying their trivial antics. Sarcasm was also another barrier that she hid behind.

She kept everyone in order because she knew he couldn't. She was strict to his subordinates because she knew he couldn't handle it all. She was there for him when Hughes died. She was there at Ishibal. Behind all her masks, whether it be her sarcasm or military uniform, her ulterior motive was always to protect anyone she cared for. That was why he had fallen for her.

"Colonel," she warned, tapping the pen on her desk in an even pattern. "I'm not going to help you this time."

After the typical comment from her, he usually let it go and would get back to work. For some particular reason that day, he didn't let it go. He didn't feel like it.

"Sure," he grinned. "That's what you always say."

"Colonel _Mustang_," she repeated, exhaling deeply as she dropped her pen and folded her arms together. She began to patronise, "How will you maintain your position if you don't- "

He counterattacked, "Do you ever let your guard down, first lieutenant? You've got to loosen up once in a while. Is there anything that you haven't perfected yet? You've got to have some sort of weakness."

"I don't see how this is related to paperwork, sir."

"The topic isn't based on paperwork, _lieutenant. _What if I ordered you to answer?"

She paused, pondering a response. He didn't always propel her questions like these other than military purposes. She paused, pondering a response. "Well…I can't really say I've perfected the air of whipping up flames out of thin air. Does that count as one of my weaknesses?"

"No," he said. Roy smirked, "Excluding my talents."

"Well, I don't do alchemy. I'm not quite that good at hands on action."

"Your weakness doesn't necessarily have to do with attacking," Roy said.

Before she had a chance to reply she had jumped off her chair. Her face paled quickly as her eyes darted around the office sensing clear peril. Roy jolted up from his seat as well, not doubting his subordinate for a second. He pulled his gloves on out of his pocket and began to do a quick survey around the office for where the danger was. "Hawkeye? What is it?"

The pistol was already clutched between her hands and without warning she began firing around the office like a madwoman. Roy cursed when a bullet almost caught his shoulder. He ducked behind his desk and waited till the firing came to a halt. He could feel his heart pulsating in his throat and by the time the firing stopped, his heart rate was still irregularly beating.

"COLONEL! FIRST LIEUTENANT!" were the cries were the first thing that Roy grasped onto before the raining of bullets. "Is everything okay?"

Acknowledging that it was probably safe, Roy rose from behind his desk to find an alarmed looking Havoc staring at the scene. His eyes were alert and his typical cigarette was hanging from the corner of his mouth, gun in his hands. "What was that gunfire about? I thought there was something wrong."

"Ask her," Roy blinked, eyebrow arched in bemusement. He still had no idea why Hawkeye had suddenly had the urge to shoot at every angle of the office.

"It's fine now," Hawkeye said calmly, positioning her pistol on the desk and smoothing out her uniform. "It's dead."

"Dead? What's dead?" Breda appeared behind the blond haired man with an expression that was fighting between being concerned and curious.

Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes weren't focusing on any of them. With a weak smile she replied…"The moth."

"The _moth?_" Havoc spluttered in disbelief. He scratched his head. "Looks like you're still a lady after all."

"Thanks," Hawkeye said through gritted teeth. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

She rushed out of the door, gaining her composure and running away from the guffaws of uncontrollable laughter that erupted from the office. Roy chuckled. Even Hawkeye had her weaknesses…

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**(a/n) This was really random. I don't even know it should be classified as either humour or romance because I just typed it all in one go without a certain direction. This isn't my usual fandom so I don't know if this is good enough. I hoped you enjoyed it though!**

**Please review ;)**

**objectivity**


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